gi^coursc 


OCCAi>IOXED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF 


REY.  EPHRAIM  PEABODY,  D.D,, 

t 

PASTOR  OF  KING'S  CHAPEL,  ^OSTOX : 


PREACHED     BEFORE 


(T'ljt  /irst  Cnngrrgatinnnl  Inrirttj,  X^rui  ^Srhforii; 


December  7,  1856. 


BY   JOHN   WEISS. 


PUBLISHED  BY  BEQUEST  OF  THE  SOCIETY. 


MERCURY    JOB    PRESS,    21     HAMILTON    STREET. 
1856. 


h-r..^^^ 


iJCSB    LIBRARY 


Mmmxu 


OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OP 


REV.  EPMAIM  PEABODY,  D.D., 

PASTOR  OF  KING'S  CHAPEL,  BOSTON : 


PREACHED    BEFORE 


December  7,  1856. 
BY   JOHN   WEISS. 


PUBLISHED  BY  BEQUEST  OF  THE  SOCIETY; 


MERCURY   JOB    PRESS,    21    HAMILTON    STREET. 
1856. 


Digitized  by  tf;ie  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

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A  meeting  of  the  First  Congregational  Society  in  New-Bedford,  was 
held  at  the  close  of  the  morning  service,  December  7,  to  make  some  pub- 
lic expression  of  the  feeling  of  the  Society  at  the  death  of  their  former 
Pastor,  Kev.  Ephraim  Pea  body.  Hon.  Joseph  Grinnell  was  called  to  the 
chair.  Hon.  John  Henry  Clifford  introduced,  with  a  few  appropriate 
expressions  of  his  own  personal  feeling  and  of  the  warm  regard  enter- 
tained for  Mr.  Peabody  by  this  community,  the  following  resolutions, 
which  were  unanimously  adopted  and  ordered  to  be  printed :  and  Hon. 
J.  H.  Clifford,  Hon.  T.  D.  Eliot  and  Mr.  Thomas  Cook  were  appointed 
the  Committee  under  the  last  resolution. 

Resolved,  That  this  Church  and  Society  have  received,  with  the  deepes^t  sorrow, 
the  intelligence  of  the  death  of  their  former  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Ephraim  Peaboi'y. 
It  has  thus  pleased  Him,  in  whose  hands  are  the  issues  of  life,  to  close  on  earth  a 
career  of  wide-spread  Christian  usefulness  and  influence,  such  as  few  of  His  ser- 
vants have  so  faithfully  filled.  We  bow  to  this  decree,  in  that  spirit  of  reverent 
submission  to  the  Almighty  Will,  which,  in  all  our  griefs  and  sorrows  while  he  was 
with  us,  his  counsels  and  his  example'  taught  us  to  cherish:  and  we  should  fail  to 
exhibit  the  fruits  of  those  counsels,  and  the  force  of  that  example,  if  this  event  did 
not  impress  us  anew  wiih  a  sense  of  gratitude  to  God  for  the  inestimable  privilege 
•we  enjoyed,  of  listening  to  the  wise  and  affectionate  teachings,  of  witnessing  the 
beneficent  and  blameless  life,  and  of  sharing  in  the  priceless  friendship  of  one,  whose 
presence  for  many  years,  was  a  light  in  all  our  homes,  and  whose  disinter*  sted 
goodness  had  endeared  him  to  all  our  hearts. 

Resolved,  That  we  tender  to  his  bereaved  family  the  sincerest  sympathy  of  this 
Church  and  Society,  in  their  great  sorrow,  and  commend  them  to  that  only  source 
of  consolation,  to  which  their  daily  communion  with  his  pure,  and  now  perfected 
spirit,  taught  them  to  look,  in  such  an  hour,  as  a  sure  and  sufiicient  refuge. 

Resolved,  That  a  Committee  be  appointed  to  request  of  the  Eev.  Mr.  Weiss  a 
copy  of  the  impressive  discourse  to  which  we  have  just  listened ;  and  that  they 
cause  the  same  to  be  published,  as  a  beautiful  and  just  delineation  of  the  character 
of  Mr.  Peabody,  and  as  a  fitting  tribute  and  testimonial  from  this  Church  and  So- 
ciety, to  the  memory  of  their  former  Pastor  and  Friend. 


mmxBt 

Philippians,  IV,  8. 
Whatsoever  things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are 
Just,  tvhatsoever  things  are  pure,  tvhatsoever  things  are 
lovely,  wliatsoever  things  are  of  good  report. 

In  this  house,  which  the  departed  servant  of 
God  first  dedicated  to  truth  and  worship,  let  some 
memorial  be  raised  to  him.  You  called  him  first 
to  these  walls,  and  his  were  the  prayers  which 
first  made  them  enclose  a  sanctuary  for  your  ten- 
derest  tlioughts  and  best  aspirations.  His  regard 
first  associated  each  pew  in  this  place  with  the 
name  and  fortunes  of  a  family:  and  overlooking 
you  from  this  pulpit,  he  watched  parents  depart 
and  children  come.  The  same  holy  sentiments 
which,  under  his  ministry,  connected  these  pews . 
with  the  invisible  church,  now  bring  you  into 
communion  at  his  grave.    There,  your  recollection 


of  his  services  and  a  consideration  of  liis  character, 
will  be  a  monument,  such  as  even  his  unambitjous 
heart  might  ask  for,  and  one  that  he  would  value 
above  the  most  costly  material  of  earth. 

At  length  we  say  to  each  other  —  "He  is  gone !" 
We  knew  not  when  his  pure  and  gentle  light 
would  disappear,  but  we  knew  for  many  months 
that  it  was  sinking ;  we  began  early  to  reckon  the 
varied  traits  of  that  excellence  which  we  should 
have  to  sm'render,  but  all  such  thoughts  were  held 
in  suspense,  and  all  words  have  been  hushed,  till 
the  close  gives  us  permission  to  speak  what  we 
think  and  feel.  Those  who  knew  him  well  have 
till  now  seemed  to  be  within  the  chamber  of  his 
weakness,  where  even  the  comments  of  tenderness 
must  respect  the  lingering  presence.  But  now  he 
is  gone,  let  us  say  all  we  know  and  acknowledge 
all  we  feel.  Let  us  tell  what  a  loss  we  have  been 
expecting.  He,  alas  —  can  be  no  check  upon  the 
freedom  of  our  utterance;  the  simpUcity  wliich 
we  remember  restrains  us  not. 


Yet  if  it  be  still  possible  for  a  departed  man 
to  receive  an  impression  from  the  world  he  has 
fust  left,  his  feeling  will  be  nothing  but  gratitude 
to  God  when  he  finds  that  Christian  service  is 
recognized.  The  warmest  tribute  of  his  best  friend, 
though  his  whole  soul  would  glow  with  thanks- 
giving to  be  conscious  of  it,  is  less  to  him  now 
than  the  avowal,  made  on  earth  and  repeated  in 
heaven,  that  his  faithfulness  has  profited  much. 
How  many  modest  men  have  to  walk  doubtfully 
in  their  own  shadow,  till  death  lets  in  a  serene 
and  pervading  consciousness  that  their  gifts  have 
been  well  directed.  For  what  hesitating,  self-de- 
preciating soul  can  withstand  the  sweet  convictions 
that  assail  it,  when  heavenly  voices  add  their  au- 
thority to  our  words  of  afiectionate  gratitude,  as 
they  say  —  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant  ?" 
If  you  feel  that  you  owe  him  anything,  if  you 
can  recal  a  single  season  of  your  life  when  the 
strength  of  his  faith  upheld  you,  or  the  sweetness 
of  his  spirit  modified  your  griefs,  let  it  be  a  plea- 


8 

sure  to  think  that  this  is  now  revealed  to  him, 
and  that  his  bliss  springs  from  the  assurance  that 
he  has  done  you  good. 

For  it  was  the  object  of  his  life,  to  do  some 
good.  That  kept  every  gift  subordinate.  And  the 
different  epochs  of  his  life  are  not  to  be  designa- 
ted by  the  ordinary  dates.  We  need  not  take 
the  trouble  to  mention  when  his  ministry  com- 
menced, or  when  he  transferred  it  from  place  to 
place,  when  his  labors  were  suspended  by  ill 
health,  or  when  he  sought  the  relaxation  of  travel. 
If  we  really  desired  to  make  up  the  chronicle  of 
his  life  we  should  have  to  know  what  sermons, 
full  of  his  sincere  convictions,  enlarged  your  minds 
or  fell  warmly  on  your  hearts,  what  prayer  direct- 
ed the  fluttering  thoughts  of  the  dying  to  their 
Father,  what  advice  gave  its  color  to  some  unde- 
cided day,  what  unobtrusive  effort  met  the  want 
of  the  poor,  what  cheerful  conversation  lightened 
the  eyes  of  the  miserable.  The  actual  moments 
of  his  usefulness  would  fiunish  the  dates  of  his 


career.  Undoubtedly,  an  ample  record  of  this 
kind  has  been  preserved,  but  upon  scattered  minds 
and  hearts.  It  can  be  read  connectedly  only  by 
the  Father  who  seeth  in  secret.  But  if  we  cannot 
gather  and  collate  such  precious  leaves,  to  pro- 
duce his  veritable  history,  we  can  observe  the 
gifts  and  the  spiritual  disposition  which  wrought 
these  unknown  moments  of  his  usefulness.  And 
this  shall  be  the  memorial  of  your  hearts. 

The  clearness  and  precision  which  belonged  to 
Mr.  Peabody's  mind,  resulted  from  its  large  per- 
ceptive ability.  He  did  not  indulge  in  trains  of 
abstract  thinking,  but  rather  gave  unpremeditated 
expression  to  all  that  he  gathered  by  means  of 
this  dihgent  perception.  It  was  a  discriminating 
traveller  through  the  world  of  books  and  men, 
and  always  brought  him  the  facts  in  every  de- 
partment that  are  worth  preserving.  His  mind 
was  sensible  because  these  facts  had  been  well  se- 
lected: when  it  came  to  the  point  of  expression, 
nothing  was  vague  because  the  traveller  had  not 


10 

imagined  or  fabricated  anything  by  the  way,  but 
had  been  content  to  bring  home  the  simple  and 
obvious  realities.  This  perceptive  ability  also  se- 
cured the  gracious  and  lovely  traits  belonging  to 
each  region  that  it  penetrated,  so  that  his  state- 
ments had  a  kind  of  precision  unlike  that  which 
distinguishes  the  bare  logical  faculty:  their  form 
was  strictly  accordant  with  fact,  but  life  and  color 
were  not  absent.  The  successful  discoverer  always 
presented  the  specimens  of  the  climes  he  visited 
in^  their  appropriate  costume  and  ornament.  His 
perception  included  this  lively  fancy,  which  pre- 
served every  characteristic  trait.  We  were  as  sure 
of  the  corresponding  poetry  as  of  the  fact  itself; 
and  the  poetry  appeared  to  be  the  natural  and 
sensible  mode  of  life  which  the  facts  led.  If  this 
prevailing  ability  of  his  mind  seldom  entered  the 
region  of  the  imagination,  it  compensated  by  the 
rich  variety  of  life  and  of  experimental  knowledge 
which  gave  Mr.  Peabody  his  unerring  judgment. 
It  appeared  intuitive,  but  it  was  the  result  of  a 


11 

long,  series  of  patient  observations.  The  astrono- 
mer can  tell  you  on  the  instant  the  name  of  any 
star  which  you  designate,  its  magnitude,  its  con- 
dition as  fixed  or  planetary,  and  its  remoteness. 
But  every  inch  of  the  firmament  has  been  pa- 
tiently explored.  So  had  Mr.  Peabody  observed 
all  kinds  of  men  and  women.  He  was  never  de- 
ceived, though  they  had  all.  the  sameness  of  the 
stars  and  their  apparent  equidistance  from  himself 
He  auscultated  with  his  ear  close  to  the  heart. 
Some  people  are  considered  to  know  human  char- 
acter, who  are  after  all  only  dealers  in  scandal. 
They  can  travel,  like  eye-stones,  out  of  sight,  and 
thoroughly  explore  a  single  noble  organ,  but  they 
onlyi  gather  motes.  Mr.  Peabody's  instinct  seemed 
to  be  carried  clear  through  a  person's  circulation 
and  to  bring  him  a  faithful  report  of  all  the  or- 
gans. And  his  search  was  so  free  from  pique  and 
every  sidelong  influence,  so  obviously  guided  by 
a  preference  for  things  that  are  of  good  report, 
that   everybody   fearlessly  gave    up    to   him    the 


13 

freedom  of  their  hearts.  How  genial  and  consci- 
entious his  discourse  was  about  all  kinds  of  peo- 
ple! To  hear  him  bring  forth  with  a  few  easy 
strokes  some  person's  nature  into  sculptural  preci- 
sion, was  one  of  the  delights  of  his  society.  The 
strokes  were  easy,  but  they  were  minute  and 
careful  and  never  omitted  an  essential  line,  how- 
ever delicate.  You  could  depend  upon  his  analy- 
sis, as  a  bench  of  judges  can  depend  upon  that 
of  the  chemist  or  the  surgeon.  After  finding  him 
never  once  mistaken,  you  accepted  the  character 
which  he  deliberately  gave  of  any  person  as  a 
sort  of  fate.  What  an  advantage  he  possessed  in 
this  subtle  perception  whenever  he  approached 
men  with  advice  or  consolation.  How  quietjy  he 
would  rectify  your  false  impressions  of  a  friend 
or  neighbor,  and  adjust  a  variety  of  minds  in  the 
same  circle,  to  keep  the  same  time,  though  with 
separate  beats.  And  the  treatment  of  the  sub- 
jects of  his  preaching  must  have  depended  largely 
upon  this  minute  knowledge  of  human .  diversities. 


13 

He  read  books  as  he  read  men,  with  the  same 
swiftness  and  completeness:  for  genius  must  go 
to  the  reading  as  well  as  to  the  writing  of  a 
book.  He  had  a  feeling  of  the  page:  it  could 
not  detain  him  unless  it  promised  his  instinct  to 
repay  perusal.  Some  men  are  obliged  to  travel 
through  every  printed  line,  before  they  can  pro- 
nounce that  it  is  dull.  Mr.  Peabody  wasted  no 
time  in  these  false  starts;  he  seemed  to  know 
upon  the  margin  of  a  tract  whether  it  would  be 
fertile  or  desert:  thus  he  strode  through  books 
with  startling  rapidity.  He  sought  almost  every 
kind  of  book  that  appears  in  the  English  lan- 
guage :  for  this  was  the  necessity  of  his  mind  to 
explore  all  realms.  So  that  his  information  rep- 
resented many  departments  of  human  knowledge. 
This  multifarious  reading  yielded  itself  up  to  his 
capacity  for  order ;  and  his  mind  allowed  no  more 
jostling  among  its  facts  and  subjects  than  it  did 
among  its  varieties  of  human  character.  The  same 
perception  which  enabled   him   to  read  well,  lent 


14 

its  native  fancy  to  the  effort   of  combining  well 
and  displaying  the  analogies  of  separated  facts. 

AH  these  qualities  and  attainments  appeared  in 
Mr.  Peabody's  felicity  of  conversation.  None  of 
the  usual  words  applied  to  mark  the  conversa- 
tion of  different  men  will  designate  his  correctly. 
It  was  not  impressive,  nor  impulsive,  nor  ele- 
vated, nor  witty,  nor  brilliant:  and  yet  it  was 
never  dull  nor  common.  It  was  a  continuous 
unpremeditated  overflow  of  clear,  sparkling,  gen- 
tle waters.  It  appeared  as  if  his  mind,  having 
filled  up  with  its  natural  variety,  quietly  let  it 
ripple  over  the  margin  of  his  lips.  The  filtered 
flow  escaped  in  even  measiu'e,  not  without  cheer- 
ful and  refreshing  sounds,  but  with  neither  effort 
nor  self-consciousness.  It  was  not  a  talk,  but  a 
release  of  ideas.  A  cheerful  and  serene  disposition 
rested  over  it,  and  all  day  long  the  same  even 
climate  was  preserved.  Facts  from  books,  from 
travel  and  from  human  life,  bright  touches  of 
personal  characters,  sensible  results  of  experience. 


15 

were  all  in  this  escape  of  his  mind's  fulness,  with 
a  grave  mood  occasionally  passing  over  it  as  from 
the  shadow  of  a  tranquil  wing.  How  willingly 
he  let  the  mirth  of  others  break  into  his  lapsing 
talk,  and  what  a  pleasant  repartee  would  come, 
after  just  a  moment's  hesitation  or  lingering  over 
the  act,  like  the  occurring  of  ripples  in  a  serene 
course.  But  his  mind  seemed  most  naturally  en- 
gaged in  the  equable  diffusion  of  its  own.  sur- 
plus, to  deposit  golden  instruction  and  sugges- 
tion quietly  by  the  way,  not  to  leap  wide  in 
flashes,  nor  to  settle  in  deep  pools.  His  conver- 
sation was  the  autumn  harvesting  of  a  temperate 
zone. 

And  his  preaching  was  a  more  elevated  con- 
versation. The  same  affluence  of  his  prevailing 
ideas  was  carried  over  the  solemn  subjects  of  the 
Christian  religion,  and  his  personal  faith  and  piety 
came  down  to  penetrate  and  enhance  those  ideas, 
but  still  the  serene  and  simple  flow  went  on. 
The   discourse  would  warm  and  sparkle  with  sin- 


16 

cerity,  and  deepen  with  the  wisdom  of  his  graver 
experiences,  and  the  flow  would  often  pass  over 
the  glittering  spots  of  fancy,  still  it  kept  tem- 
perate and  equable.  It  seldom  mounted  to  a 
climax,  for  that  would  have  been  inconsistent 
with  his  mental  methods,  but  he  sometimes  gath- 
ered the  whole  tone,  whether  earnest  or  tender, 
into  a  single  figure  that  consigned  the  sentiment 
to  the  hearers,  and  made  thein  as  rich  as  him- 
self with  their  portable  form  of  his  meaning: 
as  when,  for  instance,  in  a  discourse  upon  the 
uses  of  grief  in  making  the  soul  loyal  to  God 
and  in  bringing  the  distant  objects  of  faith  very 
near  to  the  suffering  life,  he  summed  it  all  up 
with  saying,  "so  that  every  tear,  as  it  gathers 
in  the  eye,  shall  become  a  transparent  lens 
throagh  which  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  world 
may  be  descried."  His  perceptive  fancy  scat- 
tered many  such  apt  and  gracious  illustrations 
through  his  preaching,  but  the  grave  simplicity  of 
his  matter  carried  them   along:  they  seemed  to 


17 

be  accidental  ^^suggestions  during  an  absorbing  talk. 
And  in  this  way,  without  elaborate  construction, 
and  without  a  gradual  swell  of  thought  or  emo- 
tion to  imposing  closes,  he  held  high  converse 
with  the  souls  of  his  hearers,  and  they  were 
hardly  conscious  how  he  obtained  possession  of 
their  thoughts.  But  his  discourse  penetrated  like 
a  fair  and  bracing  climate;  all  felt  this  radiation 
from  his  mind.  It  was  like  an  open,  gentle  and 
palpable  day,  still  it  was  one  that  filled  all  the 
space  from  earth  to  sky.  His  steadfast  faith  in 
the  invisible  objects  of  religion  shone  through  it, 
his  childlike  piety  shed  its  influence  down.  His 
reverence  for  the  perfections  of  the  Saviour  claimed 
your  sympathy,  together  with  all  pure  affections 
that  delight  to  find  an  unvexed  medimn:  for  he 
offered  no  obstruction,'  and  made  the  air  murky 
with  no  doubts,  but  as  he  permitted  the  sub- 
stantial realities  of  the  heavenly  world  to  make 
their  announcement  though  his  humble  and  trans- 
parent heart,  he  mildly  kindled  with  their  passage. 


18 

His  discourses  were  also  distinguislied  for  their 
particularity  —  that  is  to  say,  he  never  permitted 
a  single  practical  and  sensible  element  of  their 
subject  to  escape.  If  it  became  necessary,  his 
minuteness  was  jealous  and  microscopic,  and  he 
was  sure  to  appropriate  everything  within  the 
range  of  his  fine  perception.  I  remember  a  dis- 
course which  he  preached  in  this  city  on  occa- 
sion of  the  anniversary  of  some  benevolent  soci- 
ety. It  gave  the  arguments  in  favor  of  charity, 
and  exposed  the  habitual  excuses  of  men  who 
are  unwilling  to  give.  It  had  no  pretension  be- 
yond completely  exhausting  the  subject :  it  aimed 
to  push  a  reluctant  giver  inch  by  inch  from  the 
ground  he  occupied.  One  objection  after  another 
was  taken  up  and  quietly  disposed  of:  you  won- 
dered at  the  fertility  of  a  sordid  mind.  The  dis- 
course did  not  appear  to  carry  along  any  par- 
ticular effect  with  it,  for  it  consisted  only  in 
digging  patiently  from  one  point  to  another:  but 
these  parallels  which  he  thus  threw  forward  with- 


19 

out  ostentation,  brought  you  of  a  sudden,  at  the 
end  of  the  discourse,  into  the  enemy's  citadel. 
And  it  became  clear  that  a  more  effective  discourse 
of  the  kind  was  never  delivered:  for  it  dislodged 
the  covetous  objector,  who  was  not  much  impressed 
by  the  way,  yet  when  it  was  all  over,  he  felt  that 
there  was  not  a  single  mental  reservation  or  sub- 
terfuge to  shelter  him.  And  when  a  man  is 
actually  stripped  of  every  pretext,  it  becomes 
a  last  resort  to  give.  There  was  much  of  this 
patient  and  unambitious  wisdom  in  all  of  Mr. 
Peabody's  discourses.  And  in  that  respect  the 
man  himself  appeared,  in  the  midst  of  his  speak- 
ing, to  be  still  observing  and  experiencing.  Ever 
prudent  and  sensible,  but  penetrated  by  a  lofty 
purpose,  he  strove  to  make  a  way  into  the  nat- 
ural  understanding   for  the   charities   of  Christ. 

When  all  the  papers  which  he  wrote  are  col- 
lected, they  will  be  found  to  cover  an  ample 
field,  and  to  have  called  into  exercise  various 
attainments.     The    poetry    of   the   West,  the   art 


20 

and  life  of  Italy,  the  doctrines  of  the  Unitarian 
faith,  Colonization  and  the  question  of  Slavery, 
are  some  of  the  subjects  of  his  pen  which  occur 
to  me  without  research.  Wise,  well-considered 
suggestion,  taste,  a  delicate  perception  and  an 
earnest  disposition  are  the  characteristics  of  his 
composition.  I  call  to  mind  that  his  constitu- 
tional cautiousness,  when  brought  out  by  the 
subject  of  slavery,  was  the  cause  of  much  mis- 
representation and  a  violent  imputation  of  unwor- 
thy motives  to  him.  It  seems  as  if  men  could 
not  differ  in  this  country  without  making  a 
signal  for  accusations.  And  a  man,  equal  in 
sincerity  to  any  other,  is  not  permitted  to  have 
a  different  kind  of  mind  and  temperament  from 
the  rest  without  suspicion.  Let  him  exercise 
that  mind  under  ever  so  grave  a  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility to  God,  with  pity  ever  so  deep,  and 
a  desire  to  pour  some  remedial  love  into  all 
the  wounds  of  misery,  still  if  he  shrinks  from 
the  methods  and  propositions   of  others,  he  is  ad- 


21 

judged  to  have  some  unclean  and  ignoble  reason 
for  it.  The  most  conscientious  man  who  ever 
stood  in  a  pulpit  is  "joined  to  his  idols,"  he 
wants  to  keep  his  place,  or  he  has  been  cov- 
ertly overpowered  by  the  average  opinion  of  his 
people,  or,  feeling  clearly  what  he  should  speak, 
he  shivers  on  the  verge  of  dissent  and  dreads 
to  take  the  plunge.  Is  it  absurd  to  suggest 
that  there  are  diversities  of  gifts,  while  there  may 
be  the  same  spirit?  Your  difference  of  gift  is 
not  presumptive  evidence  of  my  deficiency  of  the 
spirit.  Is  it  too  late  to  propose  to  these  unmanly 
suspicions  a  truce  based  upon  the  essential  differ- 
ences among  men's  minds?  It  should  protect  ev- 
ery one  except  the  indirect  and  supple  time-server. 
But  if  it  is  determined  to  continue  to  attribute 
motives,  let  the  motive  for  a  special  act  be  de- 
duced from  the  general  character.  And  a  man's 
character  is  known  by  his  prevailing  fruits  rather 
than  by  his  occasional  judgments.  Perhaps  the 
unclean  will  be  unclean  still.     But  it  is  as  foolish 


22 

to  suspect  a  pure,  sensitive  and  disinterested  char- 
acter of  an  unworthy  motive  as  it  is  to  attribute 
the  darkness  to  the  stars.  A  more  sweet  and 
sanctified  spirit  than  Mr.  Peabody  has  not  lived 
in  these  latter  days.  Self-aggrandizement  never 
occurred  to  him.  He  was  even  morbidly  fastidious 
lest  he  should  appear  to  be  seeking  something 
for  himself  or  for  his  family.  And  his  cautious- 
ness was  as  unprompted  by  calculation  as  his  rev- 
erence. He  expressed  everywhere  and  upon  all 
subjects  the  simple  sincerity  of  his  mental  and 
spiritual  state.  The  judgment  of  every  man  lies 
open  to  honorable  criticism,  but  a  soul  that  "doth 
not  behave  herself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her 
own,  is  not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil  and 
rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity  but  rejoiceth  in  the 
truth," .  is  a  shield  against  which  the  calumnious 
weapon  strikes  in  vain.  Surely  the  mind  of  a 
dying  man  must  be  somewhat  earnest  upon  the 
question  of  Slavery,  if  he  struggles  to  command 
the  lingering  remnant   of  his  strength  just  long 


23 

enough  that  he  may  be  carried  where  he  can 
drop  a  vote  for  Freedom:  and  on  this  verge  of 
time,  when  his  soul  must  have  been  full  of  awe 
and  expectation,  and  his  dwelling  full  of  imperi- 
ous affections,  he  must  needs  call  the  venerable 
Quincy  to  his  side,  that  he  might  learn,  before  he 
went,  how  the  battle  fared.  If  one  rule  of  plain 
morality  be  needed  to  temper  the  aggravations  of 
our  public  life,  it  is  this :  that  a  pure  and  earnest 
disposition  should  have  immunity  from  unworthy 
imputations. 

I  cannot  present  Mr.  Peabody  to  you  in  his 
parochial  relations,  except  as  I  can  infer  from  his 
personal  qualities  the  nature  of  his  influence  as  a 
pastor.  But  I  have  met  with  many  traces  of  his 
beneficent  passage.  Under  shadows  I  have  found 
the  wells  which  he  sunk.  Your  memory  will  in- 
terfere at  this  point,  and  claim  the  tender  privi- 
lege of  bidding  him  live  again  in  your  past  griefs. 
The  chambers  which  have  been  so  long  reopened 
to  life  and  joy,  are  darkened  at  this  suggestion; 


24 

and  as  the  vanished  forms  seem  to  reocciipy  those 
beds  of  pain,  you  hear  the  sentences  of  his  sweet 
and  simple  trust,  as  he  implored  the  Father  — 
that,  if  it  were  possible,  the  cup  might  pass.  Per- 
haps, with  little  effort,  the  very  words  of  the 
good  cheer  which  he  sent  to  the  heart  of  your 
dying  kindred  will  occur  to  you,  and  the  look 
which  he  brought  to  their  bedside;  the  Avelcome 
step  is  heard,  the  refreshment  of  that  tender  sup- 
phcation  is  again  expected.  Go  back,  as  to  long- 
neglected  graves:  let  the  pity  and  intercession  of 
his  spirit  bloom  again  upon  them.  Rehearse  the 
sorrow  which  attracted  to  your  side  his  confidence 
in  God  and  his  strong  personal  feeling  of  immor- 
tality. In  those  scenes  his  purest  quaUties  will 
become  clearer  to  you  than  in  any  other  effort  of 
your  memory.  They  cluster  around  the  very  names 
of  your  departed  ones;  you  cannot  have  them 
again  separated  from  the  faith  and  consolation  of 
his  presence.  Now  he  too  has  gone  to  them,  to 
hear    their    acknowledgment  —  "The    trust    which 


25 

you  bade  me  have  in  God,  the  conviction  of  an 
immortal  life  which  you  sought  to  make  me 
share,  was  not  groundless:  lo,  share  the  substance 
of  your  hopes  with  us,  0  Pastor  —  welcome  to 
the  glad  conjfirmations  of  a  heavenly  society." 
There  again  he  recognizes  the  children,  whose 
early  graves  he  strove  to  hide  from  you  with 
comforting  and  triumphing  prayers.  Not  success- 
fully indeed  —  for  the  domestic  yearning  must  al- 
ways watch  those  gates  of  death.  But  now  he 
finds  your  children's  spirits  which  passed  safely 
through  them,  as  he  predicted  to  you,  straight 
into  the  embrace  of  love.  May  he  not  be  im- 
parting to  them  what  he  knows  concerning  you? 
Let  me  interrupt  my  efforts  to  bring  the  per- 
son of  your  former  friend  before  you :  for  I  feel 
that  your  memory  must  be  far  richer  and  more 
faithful  than  my  speech.  The  secret  of  his  char- 
acter, which  combined  and  harmonized  all  his 
gifts,  and  imbued  them  with  a  spirit  of  grace  and 
serenity,  can  be  shared  only  by  his  old  and  con* 


26. 

stant  friends.  They  understood  the  charm  of  his 
mingled  tolerance  and  strictness,  of  his  common- 
sense  impregnated  by  the  Spirit,  of  his  wisdom, 
veiled  by  simplicity,  of  his  grave,  sweet,  unobtru- 
sive piety.  The  balance  and  excellent  proportions 
of  his  nature  affected  them  like  a  landscape  com- 
posed of  temperate,  yet  most  gracious  and  exhila- 
rating features.  This  harmony  was  his  secret, 
and  the  friend  who  loveth  in  secret  imderstands 
it  best. 

At  length  he  was  forced  to  resign  the  few  oc- 
cupations which  his  weakness  had  permitted.  One 
thing  after  another  fell  from  the  hand  that  was 
too  ill  to  hold  them:  but  the  spirit  still  lifted  up 
with  a  manly  vigor  all  its  hopes  and  principles. 
That  sun  of  his  faith,  which  shed  a  cloudless 
noon  over  the  departing  footsteps  of  your  kindred, 
was  still  at  its  zenith  when  the  Father  came  to 
lead  him  also  through  the  shadow.  When  at  last 
he  sought  his  bed,  he  dictated  in  a  whisper  his 
farewell  to  one  of  your  number,  whose  friendship 


27 

had  been  not  the  least  of  the  bright  favors  God 
had  granted  him.  He  lay  in  the  midst  of  his 
books;  another  page  would  soon  be  turned.  The 
useless  pen  Avas  upon  the  desk:  the  mind  -which 
dropped  it  was  about  to  grasp  some  other  instru- 
ment of  some  more  wonderful  ministry.  He  had 
constantly  before  his  eyes  a  drawing  of  the  house 
in  which  he  was  born,  and  of  the  Mansion-House 
at  Naushon  where  he  renewed  his  strength  so 
often.  And  thus  he  waited,  thinking  of  the  house 
not  made  with  hands.  But  upon  the  morning  of 
his  departure,  the  domestic  affections  assembled 
strong  and  eager  within  him;  he  said  much  —  he 
recalled  with  warmth  and  satisfaction  his  own  fa- 
ther—  he  poured  out  to  his  physician  all  the 
gratitude  of  his  meek,  confiding  spirit  —  and  then, 
with  the  last  injunction  of  love  to  his  daughters 
we  hear  the  last  words  of  his  earthly  ministry: 
"Oh  —  my  children,  be  good,  Christian  women." 

I   wish    those   words    could   sound    through   all 
places  where  a  womanly  heart  beats  to  hear  them. 


X^(pOZ5(o 


28 

I  wish  they  could  have  the  A^^ngs  of  his  fleeting 
spirit,  and  the  weight  of  his  last  solicitude.  Hear 
them  —  young  women:  they  commend  you  to  the 
humble  and  heavenly  minded  Savior.  Let  dying 
earnestness  guide  you  away  from  all  frivolous  and 
cumbering  things  to  the  lowly  Redeemer's  feet. 

My  friends  -^  thank  God  for  a  pure  man  in  the 
midst  of  a  corrupt  generation.  Keep  bright  these 
outlines  of  an  unambitious  and  unselfish  heart. 
They  appear  against  fraud,  and  covetousness : 
they  shine  mildly  amid  the  mad  superstitions  of 
the  worshippers  of  this  world.  They  seek  to 
make  a  fresh  delineation  of  the  Gospel  for  tempt- 
ed and  forgetful  men.  Let  this  good  minister  of 
Christ  pass  whither  he  has  received  his  call,  but 
whatsoever  things  have  been  lovely  in  his  life, 
whatsoever  things  of  good  report  —  think  on  these 
things. 


i'l('l"'i''ii'" 


i,^,";,i?f°IONAL  LIBRARY  FAC;i  ir 


A     000  609  523"' 


